


Lloyd's Still Got Them Polaroids

by delgaserasca



Category: Life (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-22
Updated: 2008-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1638434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delgaserasca/pseuds/delgaserasca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tidwell/Dani. Dani redefines problematic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lloyd's Still Got Them Polaroids

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to twincy for the original prompt (ages and ages a go - I'm sorry I'm so slow!); additional thanks to Denz for her beta prowess.
> 
> Written for threeguesses

 

 

**lloyd's still got them polaroids.**

 

well it's not so much the words you say  
it's how you use your lips  
**we are scientists, _altered beast_**

* * *

So. He's got this problem, see, and it basically comes down to the fact that he has difficulty catching words that fall from his mouth. Sometimes Dani gets this look on her face like she's going to do him harm and it sets him ticking, but that gets him into the kind of trouble that makes her turn tail and walk the other way.

God _damn_ , but she's hot. The word he wants is 'firecracker' but he doesn't say it out loud. She'd probably shoot him if he did.  
  
  
  
  
Tidwell's never really had a problem with women. They've all got this list of things in their heads that a man should or should't say, and once you've cracked that and what makes them laugh, it's pretty smooth sailing. At least, until they catch you chatting up the girl at the coffee store, or they want you to meet their parents. Break-ups are a messy business; he should know. 

Dani redefines problematic. He can't figure her out. Things she laughs at one day she hates the next, and the tiniest slips can make her tight-lipped. She gets embarrassed, too, but not about things other women get embarrassed about. Mostly she walks around looking harassed - Crews can do that to a person - or annoyed. Or both. 

It's that little frown that gets him, half-petulant, half-dangerous. Reminds him of his second wife and she really did try to shoot him. Yeah, he thinks, this one's going to be a challenge.  
  
  
  
  
Their current suspect has an unfortunate predilection for telling jokes. Dani isn't laughing, but Crews looks like he's having the time of his life. 

"...and the monkey says, damn, how much water did you drink?" He smiles widely, looking clownish and all of five years old. 

Dani stares at her partner before heading to the exit, leaving Crews wondering what it is that he's said. Tidwell feels smug. At least he's not the only one she walks out on.  
  
  
  
  
Sometimes he wonders just how much there is going on between Dani and Crews. She doesn't get any less pissed with her partner than she does anyone else, but she does have more patience with him, and she seems to get the way the guy works. 

(He'd made the mistake of asking once. "You and your partner, anything there I should know about?" She'd rebuffed him immediately - "What? God. No. _No_." - but then she didn't meet his eye for the rest of the day.) 

Then sometimes she gets that look in her that says _shut up or I swear I will kick you_ , and he figures there's no way those two are bumping uglies.  
  
  
  
  
Talking to Crews gets complicated sometimes, mostly because he's not sure how much Dani's told him and how much he's guessed. Add to that the way the guy goes round in circles - which, by the way, a totally addictive pattern of speech - and Tidwell leaves the conversations less informed than he was when he joined them. 

"How do you deal with that," he asks Dani as the two of them watch her partner turn the tables on another unsuspecting suspect. 

"With what?" 

"You know, with..." he waves his hand at the interrogation room where Crews is talking more to himself than the guy across the desk, " _that_." 

She shrugs. "It's zen." 

"No, it's not." 

"It's zen-ish," she says, with the hint of a smile. He feels like the joke's on him. "It's Crews," she adds, like that's explanation enough. "You get used to it. It's not like prison was a vacation." 

He considers that for a moment. "You ever wonder if he's going to go Dark Side on you?" He knows it's a mistake the minute he says it, and it's got to be like watching a train wreck sometimes with him. Dani's stiffens beside him, her face hardening. "Dani, I didn't mean--" 

"God, what is wrong with you?" she says, then steps deliberately towards the door. "My partner needs me." 

"Nice one, Tidwell," he mutters to himself. He wonders what offended her more - the idea itself or the fact that he used Star Wars to make his point. He's thinking neither one gains him a gold star, and certainly no tail. 

He makes a mental note: dinner for one tonight.  
  
  
  
  
Dani turns up at his place at 1am. He answers the door in his shorts and socks; the light from the hallway makes him squint. She doesn't say anything, just looks at him with her lips pursed and her weight all on her right foot. In the yellow light she's all angles and curves. She's still wearing her gun; he feels his mouth go dry. 

"Get inside," he growls. The door's barely closed before she launches herself at him. She's got a lot of force for a little lady.  
  
  
  
  
He's got this little trick camera, a weird memento from his first marriage back when he drank more and ate less. It's one of those insta-click deals, kind of like polaroids but for kids. He's got five reels of film, and he just can't throw the damn thing out. 

Dani finds it in his sock drawer whilst looking for a pair of his boxers, and she looks at it like she's never seen one before. "It's a camera," he explains, taking it gently from her hands. "You tug it here, pull back this switch, and then boom, you're ready to go." 

She raises a wry eyebrow. "Boom?" 

"Yeah, boom, you know," he gestures an explosion, hands moving vaguely outwards and then flailing as he tries to explain what he means, "there you have it, Bob's your uncle... boom." 

She doesn't look convinced but he knows he's scored points of a sort because she goes back to looking at the camera and fiddling with the time switch. "Nice bit of kit, that," he adds, "a classic," but she doesn't answer. Her focus is directed completely on the mechanisms and for a little while he thinks he can guess what she looked like as a teenager. 

_Phirrr-click_. The shutter whirs and whines quietly; Dani startles at the unexpected noise. He tugs at the exposed shot and peels away the adhesive strip. Slowly the image reveals itself: their feet, barefoot and incredibly close. 

"That's one for the scrapbook," he jokes, and Dani just rolls her eyes.  
  
  
  
  
The next day at the station Dani's back to pretending like he's never seen her naked. Things get a little weird during the briefing, but that's nothing new. His daily routine isn't complete if he doesn't drop the ball at least once. 

He brings her a sandwich at lunch time as she's going over witness statements. She's hunched over the desk, sleeves rolled up and a hand in her hair. He wonders if she's still wearing his boxers. She looks up in surprise when he approaches, and eventually nods her thanks. Crews gives him a look that's a mix between amused and intrigued, and he ends up forking over his own lunch just to stop the guy from staring at him. 

Crews offers up a cup of fruit in return. "Yeah, no thanks. I don't trust that natural stuff." 

He's not entirely sure, but he thinks Dani's smiling into her paperwork.  
  
  
  
  
She goes home with him for the second night in a row. He leaves first but she's waiting, cross-legged, when he gets to his apartment. 

As it turns out, she's wearing red panties. Oh boy.  
  
  
  
  
The bed's empty when he wakes the next morning but he finds his boxers in the laundry pile and figures he didn't upset her whilst he was sleeping. It's a skill he has, pissing her off even when he's unconscious. He'd woken up before to hear her slamming her way out of the apartment. God knows what he'd done that time. Oh wait, that's right: he'd _seduced_ her. Strange how that worked. 

He sees her at the coffee stand on his way into work and he pulls out his wallet. "Here, let me get that." He nods to the barista, "Can I get a venti?" Dani turns to look at him, face scrubbed clean and emotionless like always. She doesn't do well in the morning. She looks like maybe she's going to protest, but then she takes the coffee wordlessly. 

He pulls a twenty from his wallet and something slips to the floor. Dani crouches to pick it up but stills when she sees what it is. 

"What?" Then he sees his feet and realises it's the photo from the other night. His stomach drops; not even nine am and he's already in her bad books. "Ah," he scrambles to save the situation, "I can explain that. It's, uh. Yeah." 

She shrugs, hands it back. "What's to explain?" She takes a sip of her coffee and starts to walk away. "Your coffee's getting cold," she says over her shoulder. It's entirely possible she's smiling. 

Tidwell stares at her retreating back. He's not entirely certain what just happened, but she doesn't look annoyed. Taking his coffee he shoves the photo into his pocket with his change before hurrying to follow her into the station. "Hey, Dani, wait up." 

She doesn't slow down for him. He doesn't expect her to.  
  
  
**end.**  
  


* * *

**notes.** title from Gabriel Rios' _Broad Daylight_.

 


End file.
